


Got That Something

by SundayZenith



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Married Castiel/Dean Winchester, Married Fluff, No Plot, Post-Canon, Quiet mornings, carry on never happened, hand holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:22:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28870770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SundayZenith/pseuds/SundayZenith
Summary: A lifetime of needing to jump from sleep to total awareness and surviving on an average of four hours a night prevent him from just turning over and dropping off again, but he doesn’t mind.Not when he gets to wake up to Cas sleeping beside him.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 18
Kudos: 77





	Got That Something

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by “I want to hold your hand” by the Beatles (not part of my Alphabet Shuffle series though)

It’s still pretty early, when Dean wakes up. The world is quiet, and he has nowhere he needs to be — no monsters to fight, no apocalypse to avert, no baby brothers down the hall to pester or worry over (not that Dean’ll ever really stop worrying over Sammy. The guy may be entering his forties, and married with a kid and a house, but he’s still Dean’s little brother). A lifetime of needing to jump from sleep to total awareness and surviving on an average of four hours a night prevent him from just turning over and dropping off again, but he doesn’t mind.

Not when he gets to wake up to Cas sleeping beside him.

Yeah, he’s aware that it’s kinda hypocritical of him to enjoy watching Cas sleep, considering all the grief he’s given the ex-angel over the years for doing the same thing. He doesn’t really care, though. Not when Cas is on his side with his face half buried in the pillow, his lips slightly parted, and a hand lazily resting on Dean’s hip.

They’ve been married for a little over a year and shared a room for nearly four, ever since they took out Chuck and Dean dragged Castiel’s dumb, dramatic, self-sacrificing, and now completely human ass back from the Empty, but seeing Cas sleep — the gentle rise and fall of his torso as he breathes, the way his eyebrows unfurrow, the peaceful look on his face — still feels new.

Hell, it feels  _ precious _ to Dean — Cas is still, but he isn’t sick, or injured, or  _ dead, _ he’s just asleep. Even with the nightmares they both deal with, just plain, ordinary sleep is leaps and bounds better than any other reason Cas’s face is slack, and now that Dean’s head has been surgically removed from his ass, he’s gonna appreciate that.

Also, call Dean a friggin sap, but Cas is  _ cute _ when he sleeps.

Castiel’s other hand is curled by his face and Dean can’t help himself. He reaches out and takes the hand in his own, loosely curling their fingers together so he doesn’t wake Cas up, and lets their intertwined hand lay on the pillow by Cas’s head.

Dean has long since embraced how much he loves holding Cas’s hands — the hands that raised him from hell, struck down monsters, gripped weapons, healed and hurt and took lives and give life back, and gently held their nephew when Sam and Eileen had them babysit. Cas’s hands are rough, though they aren’t scared like Dean’s — though they still go on hunts every now and then, for the most part the Winchesters are retired, helping out with lore or occasionally providing backup to the new generation of hunters out there. The calluses on Cas’s fingers have more to do with the hours he spends working in the garden or helping Dean tinker with cars than anything else.

Castiel’s hands fit in Dean’s perfectly. Dean hadn’t realized he started squeezing Cas’s hand until he sees Castiel’s eyes brows furrow. Cas presses his face into the pillow before opening one bleary eye, and combined with his major bedhead and the annoyed press of his lips he looks, Dean thinks, so much like a disgruntled cat that Dean almost reconsiders his stance against felines.

With a chuckle at the thought, Dean says, “Mornin’, Angel.”

“No,” Cas grumbles, his normally rough voice rougher with sleep. “Too early.”

Dean snorts at that. A morning person, Castiel was not.

“Sorry, Cas. Go back to sleep.”

With a grunt, Cas squeezes his eyes shut and uses his free hand to push Dean onto his back. Then, blindly, Cas throws a leg over Dean’s and buries his face into Dean’s shoulder, effectively using his arm as a personal pillow.

He keeps their hands intertwined.

Dean grabs his phone with his free hand and takes a picture — the angle’s awkward, but he still catches Cas’s bedhead and the content looks on both their faces. 

Dropping the phone so it’s still in reach (if he gets bored, he’ll just start sending Sam intentionally annoying texts. They might not live together anymore, but that doesn’t mean Sammy’s free from his older brother’s pestering), Dean cards his free hand through Cas’s hair, earning a pleased sign from his husband.

It’s mornings like this, Dean thinks as he brushes his lips against the gray popping up at Cas’s temple, that make being an early riser worth it. Soft enough to not bother his husband, Dean picks a song at random and starts humming into the quiet, running the words through his head without thinking about them, just content to lay there and let himself be happy.

_ Oh, yeah, I'll tell you something _

_ I think you'll understand _

_ When I'll say that something _

_ I wanna hold your hand _

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: sunshine-zenith


End file.
